


rascals

by thisandthisandthis



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Autistic Julian Bashir, Body Dysphoria, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gender Dysphoria, M/M, Panic Attacks, Trans Julian Bashir, Transporter Malfunction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:47:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26384374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisandthisandthis/pseuds/thisandthisandthis
Summary: the transporter malfunctions, de-aging julian, garak, and jadzia’s bodies, but leaving their minds unchanged. julian is thrown back into a body he never wanted to begin with.
Relationships: Jadzia Dax & Miles O'Brien, Jadzia Dax/Kira Nerys, Julian Bashir & Jadzia Dax, Julian Bashir & Miles O'Brien, Julian Bashir/Elim Garak, if you squint
Comments: 64
Kudos: 194





	1. timeslip

**Author's Note:**

> me, transmasc, wishing i could drop kick dysphoria out an airlock: what if i projected onto julian :)
> 
> \- peach ([more fics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisandthisandthis/works) // [my tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/ezrisbian))

Julian Bashir leaned out over the balcony and surveyed the Bajoran horizon one last time, smiling softly in the rosy yellow glow of sunset. Alien skies always made him sentimental as he thought of the strange new constellations they held, the wishes they kept safe over the centuries. Who had loved these stars a thousand years ago, never even imagining that their descendants would one day explore that great expanse? He watched as the Bajoran sun slipped quietly below the horizon, and he sighed in wonder.

“Ready to go, Julian?” Jadzia called from inside, slinging her bag over one shoulder.

“Just a moment,” he said, glancing at her and then at Garak, who was standing a couple meters away. “I don’t suppose either of you has a holo-recorder on hand? This view is absolutely breathtaking.”

“Unfortunately, I do not,” Garak said as he approached Julian. “Though something tells me that it can’t be captured, even with the best 3D imager.”

“You’re right.” Julian closed his eyes and breathed in the warm air, relishing the heavy, spiced scent of burning bateret leaves on the breeze. “The Gratitude Festival truly is something that must be experienced.”

“And what a lovely experience it was.”

Julian’s lips curved into a small smile. “I’m glad that I could convince you to come, Garak.”

The Cardassian placed his hands on the balcony railing and gazed out across the carpet of lush, verdant grass below. “As am I. I was... reluctant to accept your invitation at first because I didn’t think it would be right for me to visit Bajor during such a special time. Major Kira assured me that I wouldn’t be intruding, though.” He sighed. “I often think that she is more accommodating to me than I deserve.”

Julian turned to face him. “She made that choice, Garak,” he said. “Sure, she’s wary of Cardassians — she has every right to be, after what she’s been through — but she knows you’re not a typical Cardassian.”

“I assume that’s a compliment?” Garak said with a smirk.

“Coming from her? Definitely.” Julian took Garak’s hand with a grin.

“Well, staying away from the larger crowds was certainly a good idea.”

“I’m not the biggest fan of crowds anyway.” Julian gave his partner a soft smile. “Lets get back to the station, hm?”

“By all means.”

They made their way back inside to Jadzia. “C’mon, you lovebirds,” she called out to them, laughing. “Gosh, I feel like a third wheel around you two.”

“Says she who spent most of the day with Kira,” said Julian.

Jadzia laughed and tapped her com badge. “Dax to Sisko.”

The commander’s rich voice rung into the room. “Dax! Peldor joi, old man.”

“Peldor joi, commander,” Jadzia said affectionately. “Julian, Garak, and I are going back to the station. Are you coming as well?”

“Major Kira and I are going to spend some more time on Bajor,” he said, excitement warming his voice. “There’s the most beautiful tapestry display here at the temple. I’ve been looking forward to seeing it for days.”

“That sounds lovely,” said Jadzia. “Say hello to Nerys for me?”

“I will, old man. Sisko out.”

Julian tapped his own badge and notified O’Brien to beam them up. A moment passed, however, with nothing happening, and they looked at each other in confusion.

“Miles?”

“Sorry Julian, there was some sort of malfunction — I’ve got it working now. Stand by.”

The familiar tingling feeling of the beam washed over Julian’s body, and soon enough he found himself back on Deep Space Nine, standing on the transfer pad in Ops.

But something was wrong.

The first thing Julian noticed was that he was drowning in the shape of his uniform. His body felt off, too small, and uncomfortable in a way he hadn’t experienced since he was a kid. He looked down in panic and saw that his pants were bunched loosely with excess fabric around his skinny ankles, and his shoes suddenly a few sizes too large for his feet. Heart hammering reckless and fast in his chest, it dawned suddenly on him what had happened. All of this in a few short moments. His gaze swept frantically over the bodies of Garak and Jadzia in front of him as he faced their backs, and over the faces of the people in Ops as they stared with growing concern and shock. O’Brien’s mouth fell open and he groaned, eyes flickering between the control panel and the three figures on the transporter pad, all standing much shorter than they should have been.

“Bloody hell,” O’Brien muttered. “Not this again.”

And as he banged on the control panel, cursing its malfunction, Julian ducked his head, ran to the turbolift, and prayed to God that nobody had recognized him inside this awful ten-year old body.


	2. new being

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> after this chapter, it’s all julian & garak, i promise.

“Again?” Jadzia’s voice was higher and younger, but still distinctly hers. “You mean you’ve seen this happen before?” She looked down at her body in disbelief, gathering the now oversized uniform around herself.

“Unfortunately, yes,” O’Brien grumbled. “Back on the Enterprise, there was a transporter anomaly just like this one that de-aged the captain, along with three others, including my wife.”

“That must have been awkward,” said Jadzia, who seemed very composed, considering the situation.

“You can say that again,” O’Brien muttered in response. “I assume the same thing’s happened to you — your bodies are younger, but your mind is still the same? If Julian wasn’t affected, I’d have him look you over—“ Suddenly, his forehead creased with confusion. “Wait a minute, where is Julian? I swear I saw him behind you two just a moment ago.”

Garak, in his scrawny young Cardassian body, turned to look with narrowed eyes. “Did anyone see him leave?”

An ensign on the far side of the room pointed to the turbolift. “He just... ran out. I didn’t even see his face.”

O’Brien sighed in exasperation. “God, Julian— alright, we need to figure out how to reverse this. Can someone go find him?”

“I will,” said Garak, already making his way to the turbolift, and O’Brien marveled at the strangeness of the tailor’s polished voice coming from such an unfamiliar body.

“Alright, thanks. Er, bring him right back, will you? Getting you three back to normal shouldn’t take too long, since I’ve dealt with this... thing before.” He shook his head in disbelief. What were the chances of this happening again?

As Garak disappeared into the turbolift, O’Brien approached the transporter pad. “Jadzia,” he began, uncertain. She was short and slight, her dark hair cropped to her shoulders. Her eyes were wide and youthful. “I assume you’re not... in pain, or anything? I don’t know how this affects joined Trills.“ A look of dread darkened his face. “Are you still...?”

“My body is young, but I’m still Dax, if that’s what you’re asking,” she said. Her pale brow furrowed in thought as she glanced down at herself in wonder. “This is remarkable. Neither of my brains are affected — mentally, I feel completely normal — but I’m in the body of someone who shouldn’t be joined. Who never was.”

“Christ,” O’Brien muttered. “These transporters sure get creative when they malfunction.”

With a pensive expression, Jadzia ran her hands over her stomach, where the symbiont resided. “I’ve never existed like this before” she mused. “How strange.”

O’Brien shook his head in awe and shock as he looked down at her — and what an unusual feeling that was. Her lips quirked into a small, girlish smile, and she kicked off her too-large shoes, hiking up the legs of her baggy uniform. “Guess I’ll get comfortable while I’m stuck like this, hm?” she said with a grin. “I wonder what Nerys would say if she saw me now.”

“Er,” O’Brien said, unsure if he could ever wrap his mind around the fact that Jadzia Dax existed inside this unfamiliar child’s body. He hoped that he could fix this before he needed to, anyway. “Maybe you should stay here, or someone should get you to the infirmary, while we’re figuring this out,” he said. “I don’t want to take any chances.”

“Oh, come on,” said Jadzia, laughing good naturedly. “It won’t hurt to have a little fun before you change me back. I won’t get another opportunity like this... well, ever. Imagine the look on Quark’s face when I walk into the bar and—!”

“What is going on?” Odo’s voice cut her off, ringing into Ops from the turbolift where he stood. He eyed the young girl in front of O’Brien with his usual suspicion and stalked forwards. A slight edge of amusement touched his voice. “Who’s this young lady?”

“Er,” O’Brien said again.

“It’s me, Odo, it’s Dax.” She twirled around in her socked feet and giggled at Odo’s confounded expression. “There was just a transporter malfunction. I’m fine, though.”

Odo was speechless for a moment before horror shaded his face. “Fine? You certainly don’t look _fine_ — can you fix it?” he said, turning to O’Brien, an almost panicked look in his eyes. “What the hell happened here?”

“I’ll get this under control,” said O’Brien, much more confidently than he felt. “It’s happened before, on the Enterprise. Trust me, I’ll get them back to normal.”

“Them?” Odo stared at Jadzia. “You mean this happened to more people than just her?”

“Bashir and Garak too,” O’Brien sighed. “Julian... ran off. I’m not entirely sure why. Garak went to find him.”

“I guess he just got frightened by the whole thing.” Jadzia sat down on the transporter pad, legs crossed beneath her.

Crossing his arms, Odo made a gruff noise. “Lieutenant, I can’t fathom how _you_ are so calm about this.”

Smiling, Jadzia said, “I feel completely fine! And I trust the Chief.”

O’Brien raised his eyebrows and muttered something unintelligible as he tore away the cover of the transporter control panel. He examined the inner workings of the panel for a moment, raising his tricorder to scan the subspace molecular energy scrambler and analyze the problem. He tapped him com badge. “O’Brien to Sisko.”

“Sisko here.”

“Commander, there’s been a... malfunction with the transporters. It might be a couple hours until I can safely beam you and Major Kira back up to the station.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing I haven’t dealt with before. I’ll have it up and running again soon. In the meantime, you should either stay on Bajor or send for a shuttle to bring you back.”

“...Alright, Chief. If you run into any more problems, contact me.”

“Yes sir. O’Brien out.” He paused and tapped his com again. “O’Brien to Bashir.”

A moment passed, and there was nothing,

“Julian, are you there? Look, I’ve seen this sort of malfunction before. Don’t worry. It’s nothing I can’t fix.”

There was a quiet shuffling sound, and then Garak’s voice came over the com. “Chief O’Brien,” he said slowly, “I think you should give us some time.”

“Is he alright?” O’Brien started to stand, worry creasing his face.

“Julian is fine.” Some strange unidentifiable emotion colored Garak’s voice. “But I think you should give us some time,” he repeated. “Trust me, Chief.”

O’Brien swallowed. “...Okay.” He looked at Jadzia and then at Odo, as if searching for some sort of answer from them. “I should... I should have the transporter fixed in a couple of hours. After that, I’ll put you back through the matter converter and it should straighten you out. Until then... er, stay safe.”

The com went silent, and the room was filled with a strange, heavy feeling of anticipation.

The engineer gripped his micro-resonator and took a deep breath. All he had to do was recalibrate the matter stream conversion unit, synchronize the rematerialization subroutine, and double check the pattern buffer for subspace energy anomalies. With his experience, the repairs should go smoothly.

Then he’d figure out what the hell was going on with his friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope that technobabble sound legitimate sdmfjdskjfskjgfn i pulled it out of my ass


	3. care

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> garak loving his boyfriend hours... with a good heaping of angst

Garak stepped off of the turbolift, muttering Cardassian curses under his breath as he struggled to navigate this awkward body. His arms were too bony, his legs short and skinny, and his ridges looked pitiful and pale. He knew exactly what stretch of his past this body had lived. The transporter apparently had a cruel sense of humor — this body didn’t belong to Elim Garak, it belonged to Ten Lubak, and he hadn’t been that boy in a long, long time.

It was a silent, suffocating memory that resided perpetually in Garak’s head. The thick, damp heat of the dull Cardassian sky, that dark stretch of life at Bamarren where he spent the days spitting sand from his mouth and patching up his own wounds with stolen bandages, living a gray fog of an existence and teaching himself how to become invisible. This body belonged to a boy who thought he knew who he was, who he wanted to be. Garak almost envied his naïveté. Ten Lubak had not recognized the abuses in his own life. He idolized Cardassia, loved it with every fiber of his being, and believed that it could do no wrong, especially not towards him.

Which was better? To love your home, ignorant of the traumas it had inflicted upon you, or to be completely aware, but still love it with the same aching passion?

Garak tried not to look down at himself. He felt disconnected and desperately wrong, being tugged back into the depths of his memories by the feeling of this young body suffocating around him like a vice. The sooner he found his dear Julian, and the sooner the Chief fixed this, the sooner he could get back to normal. This would only last for a few hours; Garak chastised himself for being so sensitive. All he needed to do was get his emotions under control and wait for the Chief to clean up this mess.

That, and find Julian.

He approached a panel on the wall of the corridor. “Computer, locate Julian Bashir.”

“Doctor Julian Bashir is in his quarters.”

 _As I suspected,_ Garak thought, and continued down the hall into the habitat ring. He couldn’t imagine why Julian had disappeared so quickly — it wasn’t like him to be spooked that easily — but Garak knew that when Julian was feeling stressed, he generally retreated to his quarters. There, he could take a break from all the noise after a long day in the infirmary, or perhaps curl into bed with Kukalaka pressed against his chest until his breathing steadied and he drifted into sleep. Garak would never admit it, but he found it incredibly endearing to watch Julian, heavy-lidded and worn out, absentmindedly reach out for the teddy bear in search of a comfort. When Garak was present for such moments, he would coax his exhausted partner into bed, gently pulling off his shoes and socks and placing his com badge on the bedside table. By the time Garak tucked him under the sheets, he was usually sound asleep.

Garak found it inexplicably comforting to care for Julian like this. In the few months since they had begun their relationship, the Doctor had allowed Garak into many of the more vulnerable corners of his life. Garak quickly noticed that Julian was not all inexhaustible energy and adventure as he so often pretended to be. Julian would sometimes become overwhelmed, or extremely tired and closed off. He never offered an explanation of why these moods came over him, but Garak did not ask. He felt that it was a privilege to be trusted with caring for Julian while he was in such vulnerable states.

Garak suspected that perhaps this was one of those times. Maybe the Gratitude Festival had worn him out for the day, and he was feeling overloaded by his senses. Maybe the transporter accident had just acted as the tipping point.

In a way, Garak could understand the feeling. He was used to piling up his emotions inside of him until they broke like a dam. Now, walking through this corridor with the body of a young boy Garak had tried not to think about for decades, he felt his past rushing at him from all sides. It threatened to choke him, the memories he’d pushed back and forced himself to forget.

He felt a flicker of something like confidence, a voice that said, _talk to Julian about it. You trust him. He’ll understand._ But Garak felt sick at the thought. It wasn’t any fault of his dear partner, of course it wasn’t — he was just too accustomed to lies, and the truth was raw and ugly and burned like bile on the way up.

Regardless, right now, he had a duty to care for Julian.

Seeing the door to Julian’s quarters, he approached and pressed the chime. There was no immediate answer. “Julian?” he called softly, cringing slightly at the still unfamiliar quality of his own voice. “It’s Garak.”

There came no reply — but Garak noticed an odd, muted thumping sound from inside, as if something was bumping repeatedly against the wall. Worry jolted sharply through him and he pressed his hand to that panel, letting himself into Julian’s quarters.

The lights were shut off. Luckily, Garak’s eyes were accustomed to darkness, and he quickly surveyed the room. Anxiety stabbed at his gut when he didn’t see Julian. But the sound was coming from the adjacent room, so he approached slowly, saying softly again, “Julian, it’s me.”

Stepping forward, Garak glanced down in surprise as his foot landed on an object — a pair of scissors. It was then that he noticed the uneven clumps of dark hair strewn across the rug, as if they had been chopped off in a frenzy. His heart beating hard against his ribcage with growing worry, he moved quickly into the room where Julian was, and then froze, chest tightening, at the sight.

On the floor in the corner of the room, Julian was curled into himself, thin brown arms wrapped around his calves, his nails pressing half-moons of white into the skin there. He was rocking back and forth with thin, fast breaths. Every movement caused his back to thump against the wall and pushed another strained exhale through his parted lips. His eyes were screwed tightly shut as though in pain. Choppy curls of dark hair hung too long against his forehead and neck, having been cut roughly by a shaking hand. He looked completely lost, drowning so deeply in distress that it seemed as if he didn’t even register Garak’s presence.

Through the storm of sudden, encompassing anxiety that overcame Garak, a thought entered his mind — if he hadn’t known that this was Julian, he’d have thought it was a little girl. He shook his head and tried to speak, but his voice was weak and scared.

“Julian, darling—“

Garak stood frozen for a long and terrifying moment. It had never gotten this bad before. He had absolutely no idea what to do.

And then all at once the situation clicked in his head, and he knew why Julian had run away, cut his hair, broken down. When Julian was born, they must have called him a girl. And now he had been thrown back into that young and uncomfortable state. It was not just the unfamiliar body of a child, but the body of someone he never had any desire to be. A body that betrayed him.

Garak knelt in front of his love, and, feeling very, very lost, simply spoke his name over and over, _Julian, Julian, Julian,_ wondering, desperately, how to make this better.


	4. repeat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i humbly offer another chapter of sadness

Julian felt like was being strangled by his own skin. He wanted to crawl out of this terrible body, leave it behind and throw himself as far away as possible, into the stars, whatever would get rid of this feeling, this horrible fucking  feeling that had somehow found him again, across time. It squeezed the breath out of his lungs, slid its metallic fingers down his throat and mocked the highness of his voice, the slight swell of his chest, the hair that now hung ragged and short (still too long) in front of his eyes. It called him “sweet girl” and “daughter” and “Jules” and filled his head with its cloying stench until his eyes burned as though touched by acid.

The hair brushed against the back of his neck, and the spidery sensation of it moving over his skin was so unbearable, Julian dug his fingers into his calves and slammed his body backwards into the wall. Punch out that feeling, fucking get it  _ out of me or I swear I’ll die— _

Distantly, as if half waking from a nightmare, he heard the door to his quarters open. There were footsteps, a gentle but unfamiliar voice. Julian rocked forwards, losing himself again in the rushing panic inside his head. He could not think of anything beyond that excruciating hyper-awareness of his body, and he felt like a river of rainwater tumbling into a drain, slipping away only to fall back into himself again, and again, and again.

But then suddenly that faraway voice was calling him by his name, and his mind cleared just a fraction, just for a moment. He somehow recognized the boy kneeling in front of him as Garak, for who else would it be? This scrawny Cardassian kid, with those unmistakeable eyes, of course it was him.

“Julian,” Garak said, and the Doctor’s heart pounded away inside his ribcage like a thing buried alive. He tried to make it stop, the dreadful awareness of every sense, ever single cell of his body, but he couldn’t speak, couldn’t get his breathing to slow down. The realization that he was trapped in this state only made it worse. How long had it been since he’d gotten this bad? How long since he really broke down? As his back thumped repeatedly into the wall, some distant part of him registered that it was painful, in a dull sort of way. But the rhythm of it grounded him. It was a thin, fragile tether to the world that was spinning so rapidly out of control.

He didn’t know how much time passed before Garak’s hand appeared on his shoulder, the contact sending a jolt of sharp discomfort through Julian’s body. “Stop—“ he gasped, and rocked backwards, wishing he could convey to Garak how his skin was crawling, every nerve alight, how he felt like he would die if touched.

Garak moved away, thank God. And then there was the click of his com badge. Julian’s head swam. His brain could hardly process what Garak was saying to the person on the other end. He retreated even further into himself, unable to stop his movements, now, breathing sharply and much too fast, anxiety clamping down on his chest with cold, steely fingers.

Garak moved forwards again. “l’m sorry, dearest, but I need to move you. You’re hurting yourself,” he said. The conversation over the com had ended — now, Garak’s voice was edging on panicked, something Julian had never heard in him before. Garak gripped his shoulders and shifted his body away from the wall. “I’m sorry,” he whispered again, as Julian flinched and resisted. He couldn’t help it. The touch felt horrible and overwhelming, as though his skin had been stripped raw and Garak was clawing away at the fragile core of him with with rough hands, instead of just gently pulling him into a new position. “I won’t touch you anymore,” Garak said, once Julian was away from the walls. “I just can’t have you hurting yourself.”

Julian hugged his knees to his chest and whimpered. “Sorry,” he forced out, unable to look at his partner. The panic that crashed through his body coming like waves wouldn’t stop, it  _ wouldn’t fucking stop— _

“Don’t apologize, Julian, dear.” Garak’s voice was soft. “What do you need?”

Julian swallowed thickly. His tongue felt fat and dry in his mouth. He didn’t want to speak.

Garak seemed to understand, though. “...Stay here. I’ll only be a moment,” he said, standing and ducking out of the room, and Julian was suddenly filled with gripping fear — he’d driven Garak away, hadn’t he, him and his stupid fucking emotions, and how he was alone again in this fucking awful body—

“Julian.”

Garak had come back and placed something in from of him.

“Take this.”

His eyes searing with the heavy pressure of unshed tears, Julian reached blindly forwards, and he felt Kukalaka. Some of the tension drained from him as he picked up the teddy and clutched it close to himself. The soft, worn body was a comfort under his shaking fingers.

“Would you...” Garak drew a deep breath. “Would you like to talk?”

Julian shook his head no.

“Should I stay?”

He nodded.

“Would you like me to talk to you?”

Another nod, and Julian buried his face in his knees as he rocked back and forth on the carpet. He could lose himself in the sound of Garak’s voice, though unfamiliar coming from that younger throat, and maybe some of the calm would return to him, his chest would stop constricting the life out of its own self, anxiety like a white-hot knife of lightning in his gut. Julian resented himself for having no control over this horrible unraveling.

He only hoped, in some distant corner of his mind, that Garak wouldn’t find him pitiful, and that maybe he’d agree to forget about all of this the moment it was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u guys for all the kudos & love im so glad youre enjoying this story !! it means so much to me <3


	5. talk to me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> support trans lizards and your trans boyfriend <3

“My dear,” Garak began, allowing none of his own anxiety to color his voice. He kneeled in front of Julian, staring at his partner’s fingers where they twisted into Kukalaka’s fur. “I... I won’t pretend that I know how difficult this is for you.” He drew a deep breath. “But I can assure you that it will be over soon. And until then, I‘ll stay with you. Whatever you need, I’ll try to provide.”

Julian’s face was unfocused and pained. Garak fought the urge to reach out and hold him. _That’s not what he wants right now. Not what he needs._

“I... first, I want to tell you that I have no issue with, and no less respect for, who you are, or who you used to be,” Garak said. He grasped for the right words. “Heartfelt” wasn’t really his strong suit, but gods help him if he ever did anything halfway, especially where Julian was involved. “You should have been able to tell me on your own terms, if you ever decided to tell me at all,” he continued. “I just... you must know that my affection for you is... honest, and deep. I hold a great respect for you, my dear. I can sense that you are embarrassed by this situation — but there is no need for you to feel ashamed, dear Julian, not with me.”

Garak paused, surprised at himself for speaking so candidly. Pretense had always been a comfort to him. But something about being with Julian gave him permission to exist in that vulnerable state, to speak of his true emotions, no matter how incriminating they might be.

“I do not know the word for... ah, the terminology regarding gender, in your language,” Garak said, “but in Cardasi, we have an expression that roughly translates to ‘shedding your first skin.’ It’s better understood in the original language, of course, but I’m sure you appreciate the meaning.” Garak clasped his hands in his lap. “Cardassians who ‘shed’ in such a manner are not at all looked down upon — though it is very private, so I understand your discomfort, my dear. I only wish for you to understand that... well, that you have no need to fear my judgment. For there is none.”

He noticed that Julian’s movements had become a bit less anxious, less urgent. His breathing was still audible and shaky, but Garak thought that his panic was beginning to subside, for his nails were no longer digging into his calves, and it appeared as though his rocking movements were acting as a comfort. Garak forced himself to steady his own breathing.

“So, my dear Julian... I know that these circumstances are... unexpected and most certainly not ideal, but you must know that you are... safe, with me.”

Julian took a shuddering breath and mumbled into his chest, “Thank you, Garak.”

“Dear, there’s no need to thank me.”

“No, I—“ Julian exhaled shakily and tucked his legs underneath him. Where he had been silent a moment ago, words started to tumble from his lips. “No one has ever... Garak, my parents don’t even call me Julian, it’s like they still see this body when they look at me—“ He turned away. Pain flashed across his face, rigid with tension. “They thought the genetic engineering would fix me completely, and I wouldn’t ‘want to be a boy’ anymore. A nice little side effect to patching up my brain. But here I am, still trans, still _me,_ for God’s sake — they think I’m hopelessly broken when all I’ve done is exist.”

Garak’s heart constricted painfully in his chest. He wondered at how Julian was always so blunt, so honest. He knew how to translate messy emotions into words. He knew how to communicate his hurt. It made Garak envy and ache for him in equal measure.

But for now, the least he could do was exchange truth for truth.

“You are enough, you always have been,” Garak murmured. “Julian, you are more than enough.”

His beloved Human looked so fragile as his shoulders started to shake. Silent tears dripped from his brown cheeks and darkened the carpet below. Garak reached out, by instinct, but then stopped himself. “Julian...”

His voice was watery and stricken. “Don’t touch me, please,” he whispered, curling into himself. “Not ready yet.”

“Of course.”

Julian sniffled. “Garak, I... these things you’re saying to me...”

“Dearest,” Garak said, his voice steady and sure. “You must know that this is not any exceptional kindness on my part. I am simply voicing truths that your mind won’t allow you to accept.”

Julian shook his head minutely. His fingers danced anxiously along the seam of his shirt, stretching and ripping at loose strings with white fingertips.

“Listen to me,” Garak urged gently. “You will never be a burden to the right people; you will never be a burden to me. Whatever has been said to you — whatever your parents have said about who you are — they are wrong. Julian, Julian. You are a remarkable _man._ And my dear... you of all people know that I’m no expert on love, but what I do know about it is this: it’s not malicious, or underhanded, or judgmental. It took me long enough to accept that myself. I don’t want you to go through the same struggle as I did — or at least, not alone.”

Julian seemed to collapse into himself, then. He suddenly shook with the tremors of great, heaving sobs, as though a death-loving drought had broken at last within him, years of sorrow forcing themselves up raw out of his throat. He sagged against the wall with the weight of his emotion. So desperately exhausted, so crushed by the black density of whatever knifelike words echoed through his head. And in his father’s voice. Garak knew what that was like, oh, he did. To only exist in the shadow of his faults — to bear invisible bruises that refused to heal — to pray not to take up space — to even dread the fragile peaceful moments, lest they be shattered like a glass on the floor, and lodge themselves into vulnerable flesh.

 _There is more understanding here than you know,_ Garak thought as he watched his partner, a profound ache in his chest. _If only I could tell you._

As if in response to Garak’s thoughts, Julian weakly extended his hand.

 _Please,_ it said. Garak twined their fingers together.

And they both held on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i did not expect this fic to be so emotional but these two had other plans


	6. touch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone :) im so sorry for the wait on this next chapter. i’ve been overwhelmed with school, anxiety, pretty much everything lately. im not actually sure how i feel about this chapter but im posting it anyway — apologies if it feels drawn out or slow lol, im just in my feelings about these two. sending love <3

Time passed excruciatingly slowly, minute dragging after long minute as Garak sat with Julian on the floor of his quarters. Julian’s hand was growing sweaty and damp in his grip, but Garak didn’t let go. The room was drenched in silence. It was not quite uncomfortable, but heavy and obvious as the two men — well, young boys, to any outsider — sat stiffly next to each other, lost in their own heads. Julian had stopped crying a short while ago. Garak felt words edging onto his tongue, but he did not speak for fear of startling his partner, or gods forbid saying something wrong.

Garak wasn’t used to being this uncertain. He didn’t like it, and wished desperately that he could take Julian in his arms. That was one thing he had grown accustomed to over the months since he and Julian had become intimate. Physical affection had never come easily to him, but now, he found that it was almost second nature with his dear Doctor — a hand on the shoulder in greeting, an intertwining of fingers over the Replimat table, a press of palms as they bantered on Julian’s couch to forget the stress of a long day. Julian had become, unsurprisingly, very open with his affections once their relationship was established. He often kissed Garak goodbye in full view of everyone after their lunches. Not that Garak minded. In fact, it made him feel quite smug.  _ Look, I’m his! _ the gesture shouted. That lovely, lithe figure walking away smiling, it belonged to a man who claimed Garak as his partner in front of the whole Promenade. And what a thought! To be loved without shame or hiding!

So it was during this unending slow stretch of time, moments cut only by Julian’s staggered breathing, that Garak realized how much he had come to rely on physical gestures to convey his love. Julian had always been better than Garak at voicing such things. And he could be so terribly sentimental sometimes — Garak often teased him for his romantic clichés, but out of sight, he would press softly their palms together, and Julian understood what it meant. _ I feel the same,  _ whispered a brush of fingers. _ Even if I can’t find the words. _

With no contact but the tight, sweaty grip of Julian’s hand, Garak’s thoughts raced and ran away from him. Oh, how could he offer comfort? He understood Julian’s need to not be touched, of course — Garak himself was quite familiar with panic attacks — and his partner’s sensitivity was probably made even worse due to his dysphoria. Garak couldn’t begin to imagine what it was like.

He watched Julian in that unfamiliar young body, every minute movement, as the tension twitched through his limbs and gradually, very gradually, slipped away. He wasn’t sure how much time passed before Julian appeared almost normal again. Or as normal as was possible when his body was so young, and so different.

Garak resolved to let Julian be the first to speak. The silence, however, still itched at him, and he squeezed his eyes shut briefly in an attempt to ground himself.

“Garak.” Julian’s voice was high and raw, and he winced. Garak froze, eyes blinking open. “Are you alright?”

“Of course, my dear,” he replied with false geniality — a habit he had yet to break. He softened his voice. “How are you feeling?”

“Calmed down a bit,” Julian murmured. “Thank you.”

Garak’s brow creased. “What ever for?”

“...For being here. For being okay with… all of this.” Julian shrugged and pulled Kukalaka tighter against his chest with his free hand. “I didn’t expect you to stay.”

“Of course I stayed, my dear,” said Garak. “You asked me to.”

“I know. But it still means a lot, I guess.”

Garak dipped his head in that fond and sincere way of his. As he returned his gaze to Julian, however, he noticed that his partner had started fidgeting rather uncomfortably where he sat, rubbing the back of his neck and squeezing his eyes shut. He seemed caught up in some visceral physical discomfort. Garak watched his movements with worry, before a sudden understanding dawned on him. He quietly untangled his fingers from Julian’s and picked up what he had placed on the floor beside him earlier, after he had retrieved Kukalaka — the pair of scissors.

Without saying a word, Garak settled himself behind Julian and coaxed his head back. The dark, choppy hair fell away from where it had been brushing at Julian’s neck, a tactile reminder of the femininity that had been impressed back upon him. Garak gently took a clump of the hair in his hand and started to cut as much of it away as he could.

His partner let out a shuddering breath and, finally, relaxed.

Chunks of hair fell into Garak’s lap. Julian began to look more like himself as Garak trimmed and shaped, running careful fingers through the short curls atop Julian’s head. When he was finished, he gathered all of the excess hair and brushed it aside, placing the scissors back on the ground. Julian brought a tentative hand to the back of his neck to feel.

“Garak,” he began, his voice a thin whisper.

“You don’t need to thank me, my dear.”

Julian looked down at his lap. He was still facing away from Garak, no longer in a panic but still surrounded by an air of something like embarrassment, or guilt. He mumbled something very quietly, twisting his fingers together.

“What did you say, dear?”

“I said, er. Would you... hold me?”

Garak responded immediately by circling his arms around Julian’s waist, letting him lean back against Garak’s chest with a shaky breath.

“Just don’t, er, don’t touch my chest, please,” Julian said, his voice thick with awkwardness, and that  _ guilt _ again.

“Of course,” Garak said gently, making sure that his touch would not trigger more of Julian’s dysphoria. Surprisingly and suddenly, these child’s bodies of theirs did not feel unfamiliar to each other — Garak knew without a doubt that the lanky form in his arms was his Julian, and he suspected that he would know this always, no matter the way they looked, or the youth in their faces and voices. He felt Julian’s head rest back against his shoulder and smiled.

“Garak, I... I still feel like I need to apologize.”

“There is nothing to apologize for, Julian, but if it is something you need to do, then I will let you.”

Julian breathed deeply in and out, in and out. “I didn’t mean to ruin this day,” Julian said. “We were supposed to come back after the festival, have dinner together. I’m sorry this... got in the way. All of my dramatics, you know.” He laughed. There was no humor in it. “You shouldn’t have had to deal with one of my... episodes. You do so much for me already. God, I should know how to control this by now.”

Garak frowned. “Julian, listen to me. I’m only going to say this once.” He pulled Julian closer. “None of this was your fault. You had no way of knowing what the transporter accident would result in, and you cannot blame yourself for the outcome. I am honored that you allowed me to stay with you through your pain. And lastly, though you are prone to dramatics, my dear, none of what you have expressed to me is an overreaction. Do not do yourself the disservice of minimizing what you’re going through.”

The warm ghost of Julian’s breath tickled Garak’s neck. “What did I do to deserve you?” he murmured, both a deep fondness and exhaustion in his voice. His eyes fluttered shut as he melted into Garak’s embrace. “‘M so tired,” he mumbled.

“I understand. Go to sleep, dear.”

But not ten seconds passed before a voicecrackled out of Julian’s comm badge, jolting him awake.

“O’Brien to Bashir.”

Julian reluctantly extracted himself from Garak’s arms and sat up. He nodded at Garak —  _I’m alright now, I can do this_ —  and tapped the badge to respond.

“Bashir here.” His voice did not even shake.

“Julian!— are you alright? I’ve got the transporter all straightened out. Is Garak still with you?”

“Yes, he is.”

“Good. Er, Jadzia and I are in the Infirmary. Come down here, will you? I’ll get you three back to normal right away. Christ, this is strange, your voice sounds so different.”

Julian swallowed. “We’ll be there soon. My quarters aren’t far from the Infirmary. Bashir out.”

He stood and looked expectantly at Garak.

“Are you sure you’re alright doing this?” Garak said tentatively.

“If I refuse to show myself, Miles and Jadzia will be asking me  why until the day the Bajoran sun goes nova. I really don’t feel like lying to them right now.”

“Are you sure? I could ask the Chief to transport us remotely—“

“Just let me do this,” Julian said wearily. “Please, let me do this.”

So the two of them stood and walked, hand in hand, to the Infirmary, as Julian’s heart beat an unsteady percussion inside his thin, fragile chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> take a shot of kanar every time garak says the words “of course”


	7. peldor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg !!!! the final chapter!!
> 
> like usual, im nervous about posting this chapter so uhh bear with me hehe. anyways. more gratitude festival refs & symbolism bc i couldnt help myself. (i love bajoran culture lol)
> 
> i hope youve enjoyed the fic so far, and i hope this last chapter lives up !! thank u for reading this, it means a lot to me :D

Julian stared at the Infirmary doors, his thoughts strangely calm. The remnants of his panic attack lingered only as a deep fatigue in his heavy, awkward limbs. All he wanted, now, was for this to be over and done with. Just a few steps over that threshold and Miles would get him back to normal.

The door hissed open for them. Miles grinned in relief at their entry, calling out, “Julian, that must be you, huh?” He squinted and approached the two young boys at the door.

“Christ, I’m glad I won’t have to get used to this. You look...” he trailed off, and the smile faded a bit from his lips.

Julian gave a tired, emotionless smile. “I’ve lost my usual boyish charms, I know.” His gaze wavered. He stared over Miles’ shoulder at the young Trill girl behind him, who was beaming and mouthing excitedly,  _ I’m still Dax!, _ apparently unfazed by Julian’s very unfamiliar appearance. At this, some of the tension left his chest. Of course Jadzia wouldn’t think twice about his obvious predicament. After all, who better understood the nuance of gender than a joined Trill with several lifetimes under their belt?

At least Garak, God bless him, had cut Julian’s hair for him. He felt much more like himself with it trimmed neatly around his ears, no longer tickling at the back of his neck like a thousand spindly insects crawling across hypersensitive skin. It was only the slight roundness of his chest, the delicate structure of his face that conveyed “femininity” — or rather, those stereotypes that were all too common in humanoid cultures. Julian was thankful, at least, that there was no longer a prejudice against transness in his own culture. At least he didn’t have to worry about the reactions of his Human friends.

Still, he felt as though he was being forced to step outside of himself, naked and on display.

Miles looked suddenly as though he had done something very wrong. He blinked. “Ah. Julian, I’m...”

“It’s alright,” Julian said tightly.

“No... I mean, well, I’m sorry for this whole situation, I didn’t know...” He swallowed awkwardly. “This must be. Er, well... I guess... not so great for you.”

“Yeah, that about sums it up,” said Julian, feeling nothing but exhausted by this entire debacle. “Chief, I’m ready when you are.”

“Right, right, of course,” O’Brien stammered, and moved to the nearest control panel. “This’ll only take a few seconds. Energizing now.”

The familiar tingle of the transporter washed over Julian, his vision flashing white for one suspended moment as his body became energy. The feeling was never unpleasant, but it was always strange — like being jarred awake very suddenly from a short moment of sleep. It was over as soon as it began. He blinked once and looked down at himself, anxiety shoving itself weakly into his tired chest as he wondered if the transport had actually worked — but then he saw his body, the  _ right _ body, that body he’d waited so long to be able to have in the first place — and Julian’s breath left him in a shudder so full of relief that it ached.

There was Garak standing next to him, looking like himself again. There was Jadzia on his other side, shaking out her hair and grinning.

“It’s good to be back,” she said. “Julian, are you alright? I’m just  _ dying _ to talk to you about what happened to me with the symbiont, I know you’ll find it fascinating — but you look exhausted—“

“How about over lunch tomorrow,” Julian said with a weak smile. “If you don’t mind. It’s been a long day.”

Jadzia clasped his shoulder. “Of course. You’ll be okay?”

“Yes.” His expression softened. “I will.” Julian and Garak’s hands searched for each other and they twined their fingers together.

The walk back to Julian’s quarters was brief and silent. When they arrived, he invited Garak inside with a wordless gesture. Julian stood awkwardly for a moment, as though he wasn’t sure what to do with himself, now that it was all over.

“You should get some sleep, my dear.” With gentle fingers, Garak tipped the other man’s chin up so that their gazes locked. His hand lingered, straying to cup the soft cheek.

“Stay the night?” said Julian. He leaned almost imperceptibly into the touch.

“I would enjoy that.”

The Human smiled softly. He reached up to squeeze Garak’s hand once before crossing the room to his replicator. “Tarkalean tea, sweet,” he said, and a mug materialized in front of him. “Garak, I’m going to... take a moment to wind down. You can change in my bedroom, if you’d like. I’m sure there’s a pair of your night clothes still lying around there somewhere.”

Garak nodded and slipped away to change.

A few minutes of blessed quiet followed. By the time Garak returned, looking incredibly endearing in his soft thermal shirt and pants, Julian had finished his tea and was perched on the arm of the couch, staring off into space. He absentmindedly fingered the collar of his shirt.

“...A coin for your thoughts, my dear?”

Julian grinned. “It’s ‘penny for your thoughts,’ Garak.”

“Well, how am I supposed to keep all of your antiquated Earth expressions straight?” Garak huffed as he sat down. “Half of them don’t make any sense in the first place.”

“Another area of Cardassian superiority, I suppose?”

“Oh, I should think so, my dear Doctor,” Garak said with a good-natured glint in his eye, as they slipped back into their comfortable banter. Julian was about to shoot back a witty retort when he noticed something clutched in Garak’s hand.

“What’s that?” he murmured, leaning towards his partner.

Garak blinked and opened his fist to reveal the small bundle. “Just something that was in the pocket of my tunic, from earlier.”

“Are those bateret leaves?”

“They are. Mrs. O’Brien requested that I bring some back to the station. She wants to study their vein structure, but has been too busy to visit Bajor herself.”

Julian looked surprised. “Why would Keiko ask  _ you?” _

“Why, she and I are quite friendly.” Garak smiled in that conspiratorial way of his. “We regularly work together in the arboretum — I thought that you knew. We share many stimulating conversations about botany.”

“Oh! I hadn’t made the connection.” Julian blushed. “What an unlikely pair.”

“Some would say the same about you and me, my dear.”

“That’s true.” Julian slid down to sit next to Garak, pressed up against his side. He plucked one of the leaves from the bundle and brought it to his nose. “Mmm.”

“The scent is lovely, isn’t it.”

“It takes me right back to Bajor.” Julian laughed quietly. “God, I feel as though the festival was  _ days _ ago...”

Garak placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You’re exhausted, darling, after the transporter accident. You need rest.”

“I know.” Julian sighed. “Just— give me one moment. I... there’s something I want to do.”

He stood a bit shakily and traded his empty mug into the replicator for a bowl. Garak watched with curiosity as he then proceeded to rummage around in one of his drawers, finally retrieving what appeared to be a small journal. He tore out a blank page and scribbled something onto it. Then he rolled up the paper and placed it into the bowl.

Julian produced a lighter and watched with a stony face as the bluish flame kissed the corner of his makeshift renewal scroll, at first dancing along its edges like a tiny aurora, and then racing on, leaving only dusty black ash in its wake. He tossed the bateret leaf into the bowl and it, too, burned, releasing the same pleasant, spiced scent that had permeated the air on Bajor during the celebration just hours ago. Smoke rose like a pale ghost from the bowl. Julian exhaled.

He watched the flames until they flickered out, leaving only a pile of dusky ash behind.

A long moment passed in silence.

Garak stood. Very softly, he said, “Come to bed.”

Julian took his hand and followed him into the adjacent room.

As the door hissed shut behind them, Julian removed his shirt and dropped it to the floor, staring down at his own bare torso, flat and warm brown and dusted with thin hairs. His hands came up to touch the faded pinkish scars beneath his chest — barely visible, unless you knew what you were looking for. Fingers traced slowly, following the lines of the scars and skimming over the planes of his front. He hummed. Normal, back to normal. It had only been a few hours, all of this. But it had felt immensely longer.

Julian quickly changed into his own pyjamas and climbed into bed beside Garak, curling around the Cardassian as he always did, long limbs enveloping his partner in his warmth.

Garak smiled. “My dear,” he said, kissing Julian’s knuckles.

“Hm?” His voice was already growing heavy with sleep.

“Thank you.”

“F’r what?”

Garak’s voice grew quiet. “For allowing me to be with you, to burn that scroll.”

There was a moment of pause. Julian’s breath tickled the scales at the back of Garak’s neck. 

“Wouldn’t have wanted anyone there but you.”

Garak knew that he had been understood.

He thought of the renewal scrolls, and of Julian’s makeshift one, nothing but ash now. He thought of scented air and Bajoran sunsets. He thought of the sheer ridiculousness of a transporter accident, and yet, the undue pain it could bring — he thought of catharsis. He thought of burning.

And as his eyelids grew heavy, he thought of nothing but Julian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> many many thanks to everyone whos read this fic, given kudos, or left comments, u are all so sweet and im blowing you kisses right now!! im pretty proud of how this story turned out, being my first completed multi chapter fic :)) i hope u enjoyed it as much as i enjoyed writing it!!! sending love!!

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! comments and kudos are always appreciated <3
> 
> em hotep xx
> 
> \- peach ([more fics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisandthisandthis/works) // [my tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/ezrisbian))


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